(This article courtesy of the Arlington Catholic Herald.)
Right now, the only sound that breaks the winter silence is the rhythm of the stroller wheels and the soft thump of my running shoes as they hit the pavement.
The first lap around the block is my prayer time. I have time for a morning offering and a frank conversation with my Lord. The second lap is for listening. I try to focus, to stay alert to what He is saying, to keep my mind from wandering to my grocery list. The physical activity is helpful in this regard. I think more clearly, listen more intently, when I am moving.
After the second lap, I welcome my friend Bonnie. I used to do the entire trek alone with my baby. I admit that I hesitated a moment when Bonnie asked to join me. Then, I welcomed her wholeheartedly. Bonnie is a kindred spirit — the homeschooling mother of three children whose childhood was remarkably like mine and who reminds me very much of myself. Our early morning workout offers us luxury few mothers of small children enjoy: nearly an hour of uninterrupted conversation. I’m not sure which is more beneficial to our mental health, the talk or the cardiovascular workout.
Together, we walk the neighborhood, past homes, the town hall, Starbucks (we’ve only stopped there once), and a glorious lap around the lake that we time to coincide with sunrise. We discuss our children, our husbands, our parents, our God. We talk about trivial things and very serious issues. We admonish, encourage and pray for each other.
Rarely, do we miss a morning. We have set out in a fine mist, knowing full well it would be pouring by the time we made it home. We’ve walked Thanksgiving morning early enough to be home in time to get a turkey in the oven. The morning that I moved, our walk began an hour earlier, but not by design — Bonnie just had a hunch I would be up and restless so she showed up early. She didn’t have to ask twice before I was out the door.
I take the baby because the fresh air does him good but also because I know that I am not needed at home by the other children for the entire hour I am gone. It is early enough that my husband is home. My teenager is more than able to begin breakfast preparations. This is my time. It is a respite in an otherwise noisy day that is devoted to serving others. I come home energized and upbeat. I sleep better at night. After thirteen years of mothering, I have finally figured out that I need some time to myself in order to better serve the people I love.
January finds us making resolutions. I can’t think of a better resolution than to make a promise to meet someone for a morning workout. The benefits are innumerable, the rewards, rich. Get up and go — do it for your body, for your mind, for your spirit. Do it for yourself.
